


Darkening Skies

by lokilickedme



Series: Tempest [9]
Category: Loki - Fandom, Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), Thor (Movies), Tom Hiddleston - Fandom
Genre: Animal Transformation, Dom/sub Undertones, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, First Time, Loss of Virginity, Rough Foreplay, Rough Sex, Spanking, Transfiguration
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-28
Updated: 2015-04-28
Packaged: 2018-03-25 22:49:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,304
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3827857
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lokilickedme/pseuds/lokilickedme
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Loki wants to play a new game, one made possible by a trinket with interesting powers.  Part 9 of the Tempest series.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Darkening Skies

 

 

Fury summons me to a meeting, to try and wheedle more information out of me regarding Thanos and the potential threat he poses to this realm.  I have fulfilled my part of our bargain, but he is keen to extend the give and take relationship we have so tentatively established - however, since I have information he needs and he has nothing else to offer me save for what he has already given, I scoff at his summons.  He, as expected, threatens to take away my woman.

This is what I have been waiting for.  I now have an excuse to spirit her away to Asgard, where Fury cannot reach us.

He will, of course, consider this an act of war; worlds have fought to annihilation over less.  But being who I am, I cannot be made to care about such trifles.  If this world declares war on Asgard, I will simply take my woman and go elsewhere, watching from the sidelines as this pathetic little world is laid to waste.  I am not confined to either realm, and I have my ways of traveling without being seen.

But Fury wouldn't dare.  He knows his people are hopelessly outgunned.  His only true option is to exile me on some trumped up charge, banning me from setting foot in his territory again, but by the time the ink dries on his decree I will be gone with the delicious wench tucked into my pocket.

For you see, I know she will do as I say, no matter what it is I demand of her.  When she is with me I have total control over her, unquestioning obedience, absolute compliance in the most literal of terms. I have also made her susceptible to suggestion.   _Highly_ susceptible.  But it is not by any charm or spell that I have achieved this control...it is by her own free will, wrapping itself around mine.  I have no need of my magical abilities when it comes to bending her to my desires.  What she does in her life apart from me is of no consequence to me; but when we are together, she is mine.

And then there is the bracelet.

The charm I have placed on it gives me certain... _abilities_...where she is concerned.  I have yet to test them, but the time is coming soon.  I am on my way to see her, leaving Asgard by way of one of my secret passages between the realms, no longer bothering to ask Thor to escort me.  One of the conditions of my being allowed access to earth is that I never come alone and that I always give advance notice, but the time for letting them think they have any control over me has long passed.  Fury will be, well, _furious_ when he sees me walk into his field office in my armor, unchaperoned, unannounced, demanding that they bring the woman to me.  I do not fear his retaliation to my breaking of his rules.  

Because I can shift my form, and now so can she.

 

In the end, it is she who convinces me to hear Fury out.  His apoplexy at my indifference and refusal is nearly his undoing; I do not know how old of a man he is, but this cannot be good for him.  Not that I have the slightest bit of concern for his well being...but my woman is possessed of a kind heart and empathic nature, and she requests that I stop poking at my nemesis so tirelessly.  Begrudgingly, I agree, for the sole purpose of not having her angry with me when we are finally dismissed to our saferoom.  Whereas a bit of pissed off foreplay would ordinarily make me hard with anticipatory delight, I have other things on my agenda for this night.  But first I must get through this damned meeting.

Fury wants information.  I remind him that I have already given him information and ask what he has to offer me in exchange for more.  He is empty handed, scrambling to scrape together anything he can slap a bow onto, and I sit listening in amusement while my woman caresses my thigh under the table.  One of my requirements for my presence, that she be allowed to attend.  Fury is talking a lot of bilgesnipe shit and nonsense while her little hand strokes lovingly upward to my cock, bringing me to arousal while the spy of all spies stalks angrily about the room, throwing threats and promises at me in equal measure.  I barely hear any of it.  Oh I pretend to be listening, just enough to keep him snapping at me like the yipping inconsequential lapdog that he is, but my true attention is currently in my lap.  

The meeting culminates with my bored acceptance of his request to think about it.  I have no intention of doing any such thing, but I am twelve seconds from throwing my woman onto the table and fucking her right under his one-eyed stare, alarm sirens and S.W.A.T. teams be damned.  I think he knows it, too.  He dismisses us, but I am already on my way out the door, dragging her along behind me.

 

In our saferoom I begin undressing her, going more slowly than I wish, but in truth I do not want to rush this moment.  I have something planned, a little surprise that I think I'm going to be ultimately more excited about than she.  Honestly I do not know how she is going to take it, but I am anxious to find out.

Once I have her naked, I raise her wrist to my lips and kiss the bracelet that circles her slender arm.  I whisper to it, feeling the warmth of the rose-hued light emanating from it as it caresses my cheek.  The light glows brighter, and I step back, letting go of her so she stands before me as her shape begins to shift.

Not wanting to push her before I know her limits, I start with something simple.  She remains human, but I alter her form so that she is taller, slimmer, her hair growing straight and black, her eyes changing to a startling green.  Her face becomes longer and more angular and soon I am looking at myself in female form.  Even though I have seen this woman many times in my own reflection, it is exciting to see it now with the realization that she is inside it, her own consciousness alive and aware, looking out at me through my own eyes.  I can hardly wait to fuck myself.

But first I show her her new body in the bathroom mirror.  Her eyes go wide with disbelief, followed quickly by delight.  She watches us in the mirror as I stand behind her and slip my arms around her, pulling her tightly back against me, kissing her hotly and whispering in her ear my plans for this new body of hers.  I remind her that it is borrowed and admonish her not to do anything that I wouldn't do.

She giggles in a new voice, a deliciously seductive voice that I've heard so many times before, but not from her.  It excites me beyond belief.

"So what you mean is...do absolutely everything, because there is _nothing_ Loki wouldn't do...correct?"

She is giving me a deliciously naughty look in the mirror, so I shove her against her own reflection and take her so quickly she has no time to protest.  Not that she would ever do such a thing.

_"You are correct, darling,"_   I purr against her silky raven hair.

 

After I've enjoyed watching my female self writhing under me for a while, I decide to change her again to a new form.  I stay with humanoid shapes for now, to let her body acclimate itself to being shifted this way - this sort of enchantment can be tricky, more so when enacting it on other beings.  I can change myself into almost any form I wish, but I am not human, therefore I have no idea what would happen if her body does not accept the commands the bracelet issues to her.  I'm not keen to find out.

She is lying on her side on the bed, her eyes sleepy, back in her own form until I choose a new one for her.  I consider seeing if I can switch her gender, but I'm not in that sort of mood this night.  Perhaps later...yes, _definitely_ _later_.

She speaks, and her voice is soft and dreamy, with perhaps a bit of melancholy thrown in.

"I wish you had been my first, Loki."

Her words touch me, far deeper than I could ever expect.  For a moment I am so surprised at the way this makes me feel, that I forget what I am doing and simply look at her.  Her eyes are following her fingertips up and down on my forearm, lazily stroking my skin.  She had spoken as an afterthought, not expecting any reply from me, and I find myself trying to still my suddenly racing heartbeat.  

"I can be," I finally whisper.

 

I have chosen her next form.  This body will serve my purpose and hers simultaneously, allowing me to take her virginity in the least traumatic way possible.  I make her larger than her natural form, stronger and more sturdy, better suited to my rough nature.  I am less likely to hurt her this way. I pay careful attention to the formation of her inner womanly bits, attempting to make her intact, though I am far more experienced at breaking hymens than I am at creating them.

She runs her hands over her new body the moment I have finished changing her, expressing approval if not surprise that I have made her bigger. She smiles with excited satisfaction and confides in me that she has always wished to be taller, less fragile, and I kiss her softly as I remind her that I chose her as she was.  Her eyes shine in response to my words and I feel inexplicably pleased to have discounted her perceived inadequacy.  I have never understood - nor cared one way or the other about - the insecurities of others, but dispelling hers makes me happy.

I kiss and stroke her, letting her know the time for talking is over.  I am feeling anxious now, a confusing nervousness fluttering low in my belly as I think about what I am about to do.  How many maidens have I deflowered in my lifetime?  I have lost count, but I know one thing for certain - I have never been hesitant about it.  What is this unsettling sensation setting my nerves on edge?  I am being ridiculous, I decide...I am not even certain there is anything to be nervous _about._  

I push my finger inside her to test my theory - yes, there it is.  Inside her new body is the proof of newness, resisting the pressure of my fingertip as I push against it.  She is a virgin, and I will be her first, as I should have been from the start.  

She is lying beneath me, serene and content, taking it all in stride as I have come to expect from her.  Such a delight, this little mortal.  All the things I have imposed upon her in our time together and nothing, nothing has ever made her shrink away from me.  

"I'm going to break you, my darling," I tell her quietly.  She looks confused.  "This body is new, I will be the first to lie with you in it."  She nods her understanding, her hands coming up to cover her mouth as an excited smile overtakes her face.  She had not been expecting this gift, and tears come to her eyes as I kiss her tenderly.  I position her more comfortably, sliding a pillow beneath her bottom to tilt her hips upward.  She allows me to move her, lying still, her soft eyes upon my face.  They are still her eyes; I have made sure they are unchanged.  When I look into them I see only her.  

"This will hurt," I warn her as I lower my body onto hers.  Although I have made this new form larger and more sturdy than her original, I am still a god, endowed with all the larger-than-human attributes one would expect from such a being.  I can only give her a mortal body no matter how I alter its shape.  

She sighs as I settle between her legs, spreading them wide, giving myself room to move.  She does not seem afraid as I nudge the head of my cock into her folds, nor when I slip into her virginal opening and push firmly against her maidenhead.  She is not tense and she does not resist me.  I have made her wet during our foreplay, but I wish to ease her denouement further, so I lower my head to her breast and tease her nipple with my tongue.  It hardens against my lips and I nibble it gently, satisfaction filling me when I hear her familiar moan.  Her new body reacts differently and I take delight in discovering her new preferences, the new ways she is aroused, her new reactions and responses to my touch.  I have no desire to handle her roughly nor to hurt her, nor to rush this.   _This is my woman, untouched by any man but me._

The way it should be.  The way it should have been, always.  

I play with her, touching and stroking and giving her pleasure in a million little ways, still pressing against the barrier just inside her, waiting for that moment when she is so soft and relaxed and warm with need that I can push through it easily without the traumatic pain so often involved with the loss of virginity.  This is the one time I do not wish to leave her aching with the bruising ferocity of my passion.  This once, _just this once,_ I want her to feel the tenderness and care that I am capable of.  It has been many decades since I last wished to be this way.  I am almost surprised that I have not forgotten how.

But as with most things learned but unpracticed, it starts to come back to me.  I whisper into her ear, sweet words with meaning only to the heart, not so much to the brain.  Words I have whispered to wives who needed love, to lovers who needed assurance, variations of things even spoken to children who needed comfort.  It is amazing how some words seem to cover any need you are presented with, taking on any meaning you have necessity for.  The heart interprets their true meaning.  I speak such words now, watching her face, wishing it was the face I am familiar with.  Well, why not...a few more whispered words, words that do not have root in love so much as in ancient trickery, and there she is, the woman I am so fond of, her face, her smile, her beautiful auburn hair the color of turning leaves.  Her body is still in its altered form, stronger and sturdier, still untouched with the exception of the touching I have done to it.

She senses that I have changed her again.  Her expression begins as confusion and turns to realization as the familiarity of her own features sink into her awareness.  She knows why I have done this.  That little smile, the one that grabbed me so firmly by the libido in the hotel lobby the first time I laid eyes upon her, quirks up the corners of her lips and I kiss it, soaking it up, claiming it forever as mine.

There are no more words as I push slowly into her.  

At first there is a gasp of pained surprise as her maidenhead tears, and her body tenses but quickly relaxes again as I kiss her tenderly, shushing her, telling her it is alright, I am with her and she is safe.  She hands control over to me without hesitation as she has so many times, and I take it eagerly but with a careful gentleness as I break her in, stretching her so that I can move easily within her.

There is a long moment while she holds onto me tightly and I feel her trembling, and I know she is hurting.  I soothe her with my hands and my lips and my voice, trying to ease her suffering.  "It burns," she whispers against my neck, and I immediately shift into my Jotun form so that my cock becomes cold inside her.  She gasps loudly in surprise, but her eyes are closed tight so she does not see my blue skin.  I prefer it this way for now, and cover her eyes with my palm, telling her to keep them shut for me.  She obeys, as always.

With the burning soothed, I finally begin thrusting, and she comes to high arousal quickly.  I let her take her release as soon as she finds it, continuing to thrust into her through her orgasm, keeping the intensity sharp and keen as I soon follow.  As I climax, I let my concentration slip so that my Jotun form fades away and I return to the Loki she is used to.  

Once we are finished, I tell her she can open her eyes, and I begin kissing her skin softly as I slip out of her and shift down her body, coming to rest between her legs with my face against her sweet pussy, licking away our mingled juices and her blood.

 

I try not to be impatient with her afterwards, but in truth her tears are disconcerting to me, and though I try to show compassion, I have never been good at understanding sentiment.  But I begin to sense that this has meant a great deal to her, to be given a second chance to have a first time.  I feel a seed of anger growing as it occurs to me that her _first_   first time must have been an unpleasant experience for her, and I want to slowly destroy whoever it was that hurt her.  With extreme prejudice, and lots and lots of dismemberment.

I give her time to recover, but her new body has handled this event with ease and soon she is cheerful and ready to play again.  I utter the words and she morphs, much more quickly than the first time, her body acclimating almost immediately to the metaphysical changes necessary to become something new.  This little mortal, she is so full of surprises.  Quick to adapt, eager to learn, willing to experiment.  My kind of woman. Why did it take so bloody long to find her, and why did she have to be human when I finally did?

She drops to her paws on the floor, her back elongating into an elegant curved tail as her ears extend upward and her pretty face becomes the beautiful fierce visage of a wolf.  Now _this_   I can get into - and I plan to.  Dropping as quickly as she did, I morph myself in the blink of an eye and dive at her, my teeth digging into the scruff at the back of her neck, immobilizing her as I rear up onto her back and mount her. She yelps as I drive myself into her backside, her front legs bending so that her chest strikes the floor, her tail pinned against her back under my ribcage.  We howl and snap at one another, biting and growling, our wild primal urges taking control of us.  It is _exquisite_.

When our mating is complete, we lie on the floor curled around each other, licking one another's fur.  She grooms me langorously with her rough tongue and I nuzzle her with my nose, growling threateningly when she stops licking my belly to scratch at her ear.  Showing her teeth at me, she gets up and pads over to the window to watch a bird that has landed on the outer sill.  I can see her salivating as she watches the tasty little morsel flitting about just beyond her reach.

"Good girl," I praise her as I raise onto my back legs and return to my god form, joining her at the window to scratch the top of her head.  She narrows her eyes, enjoying the attention.  "Now lets see how obedient you are when you've got no clit for me to stroke as a reward."  Her eyes widen, showing her understanding and her sudden realization that what I just said is true.  It is amazing how canines can look so forlorn and disappointed.

"Up," I command, patting my chest, and she leaps to her back feet to rest her front paws on my shoulders.  She licks my face happily and I pet her, rubbing my face in the soft fur of her neck.  "There's a good sweetheart.  Now down."  I point at the floor and she drops to all fours again.  "Good girl!"

She wags her tail so excitedly that the back half of her body shakes.  She is nipping at the air and making high pitched yipping sounds like a playful puppy, trying to communicate with me.  "What do you want, darling?  Show papa."

She turns away from me and lowers her head to the floor, pushing her hindquarters into the air, her tail held high.  I cannot resist laughing as I pet her flanks roughly.  "Ah, sweet girl wants more, eh?  Then get on the bed.  Up."

She lopes happily to the bed and jumps up on it, racing from edge to edge as I sit at the foot of the mattress reciting the words that will return her to her human form.  I hear a yelp and turn to see her, naked on all fours, her face a delightful expression of surprise and amusement.  She looks at me and cocks her head to one side, still using her wolf form's movements.

_"Papa?!"_

I laugh and get up on all fours with her, crawling slowly around the bed till I am behind her, fitting my body over hers so that she is on her hands and knees under me.  "Yes, _Papa,"_ I whisper harshly against her ear, holding back my grin - although I know I look just as threatening with it as I do without.  "Now _say it."_    I bite the back of her neck and listen to the sharp hiss escape her lips.

She hesitates, teasing me.  I bite harder and shove my hips down, grinding against her naked bottom, but she arches her back and pushes her delectable little ass against my groin.  The only sound that comes from her mouth is a moan.

I know she is longing for the feel of my hand on her backside and my cock in her cunt, and I give them to her, fulfilling both her wishes at once as I shove roughly into her pussy while landing a hard slap against the silky cheek of her ass.  She yelps and her body jerks forward, but she pushes back again quickly, silently screaming for another.  I fuck her deep and rough, till finally she throws her head back against my shoulder and groans in a voice thick with desire, _"Yes Papa."_

I reward her with a good and proper spanking, pushing her down onto the bed on her stomach, stroking her back in between blows to soothe away the pain till she is on the brink of release.  And then I stretch out on her and finish her with my cock deep in her cunt, pulling out once she is finished so that I can come on her red-marked ass.

 

That night we make love in no fewer than a dozen different forms, and once we have exhausted most of the possibilities we begin mixing our species, even the ones that would seem incompatible.  Where nature refuses to let us experiment, we improvise, till morning breaks through the window and we finally fall asleep in its warm glow.

 

"Who was the first man to fuck you?" I ask as we dress, hours later.  It is time for me to go, but this question has been nagging at me since I first awoke.

She seems startled by my question, but not unduly surprised.  "Why?" she asks with a grin.  "Are you going to hunt him down and kill him for taking what should have been yours?"

"Yes, I am."

She does not even blink.  This woman knows me, and she knows me well.  I can see her thinking about it, unsure if she should divulge such information to me; I am after all the God of Lies, but am I lying this time? 

"I'll tell you if you tell me something."

And there it is.  She is learning, watching me, paying attention to my subterfuge and twisted manipulations, seeing how I work people to my advantage, making bargains and cutting deals with outcomes that will benefit mostly myself.  She has never asked me for anything, except maybe an occasional spanking.  I am intrigued, so I agree.

"Ask."

She gives me a sideways look filled with seduction and mischief.  A girl after my own heart - if she didn't already have it, that is.

"When are you going to take me to Asgard?"

I know my surprise is obvious when I jerk my head up to look at her.  Her own expression shows me she is completely serious.  I feel a wide smile crossing my face, and I do not try to fight it.

"How about now?"  I ask, holding out my hand to her.  And bless her precious soul, she takes it.

 

 

 


End file.
